Late Night Lonelies
by Sanguine Quill
Summary: Dumbledore is away and Minerva McGonagall is lonely and worried, though she hates to admit it. She finds herself awake late into the night, wishing for his return. Can her wish come true? AD/MM.


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Summery: Dumbledore is away and Minerva McGonagall is lonely and worried, though she hates to admit it. She finds herself awake late into the night, wishing for his return. Can her wish come true? AD/MM fluff warning.

Disclaimer: The wonderful J. K. Rowling and her publishers own it all.

AN: This is my first attempt at Harry Potter fanfiction, but please criticize me freely. I know I'm really not all that good at fluff, so I'm sorry if it's not quite as romantic or warm and fuzzy as you'd like. What can I say? I tried. Anyway, please review once you've read. I'd really like to know what you thought, whether you loved or hated it (or anything in between). Please tell me. Polite criticism is welcome and I'll try to listen to it. Thanks for reading.

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"Late-Night Lonelies"

By: Sanguine Quill

Minerva McGonagall rolled over in her bed for about the hundredth time and opened her eyes to the darkness. She could just make out the waves of flowing curtains enclosing her mattress, the carved oak footboard . . . and the cold, empty pillow beside her. She clamped her eyes shut again.

Dumbledore had been gone for nearly three weeks, meeting with comrades about The Order of the Phoenix, but she still hadn't gotten used to seeing his side of their bed empty. Nor had she been able to get a good night's sleep in it since he'd left. Every time she closed her eyes, her worries visualized before her like a curse. What if the war began while he was away and he couldn't get back in time? What if Voldemort attacked Hogwarts? What if Voldemort attacked _him? _

That thought sent a horrified, nauseating shockwave through her already tense body, but she managed to calm herself before self-control fled her completely. Dumbledore was more than capable of taking care of himself and panicking helped nothing. She wouldn't allow herself play the part of the pathetic soldier's wife, waiting at home and wringing her hands in helplessness.

Still, she knew she wasn't going to fall back to sleep. But just lying there in the lonely darkness did nothing to ease or occupy her mind. The longer she stayed there, the more she would start to agonize, and though she despised worrying, it was something she couldn't help. Like teaching, it was second nature to her. 

Turning aside her blankets, she slid out of bed. Moonlight was flowing through the windows, casting a cool, silver shadow over everything in the bedroom, making it seem all the more desolate. Thankfully, she caught herself before sinking further into an abyss of loneliness and abandoned the bedroom, starting a fire in the living room as she entered.

That was better. It was warm and inviting, providing just enough background noise with its gentle crackling to scare away the empty silence. The aroma of burning wood drifted about the room as Minerva settled herself in her favorite armchair and conjured up a hot cup of tea. Her jade eyes fixed on the fire, she tried to concentrate on her lesson plans for the next week. Usually, that calmed her. They were organized, logical, and structured --three things she rarely found in real life. But tonight she couldn't even focus enough to remember what she was planning to teach. More than once, she caught her mind just as it was about to drift off into daydreams --or daymares, as they'd been recently-- and yanked it harshly back to reality. 

Books, she finally decided. A good book would keep her occupied for awhile, and she certainly had plenty to choose from. A whole wall of the living room was given over to shelves stacked full of spell books, novels, biographies, histories, anthologies, and a set of autographed copies of all Lockhart's tales, which Dumbledore wouldn't let her burn. After much internal debate, she chose a muggle novel and settled back by the fireside, refilling her tea.

The story was interesting, but tonight nothing short of a miracle could keep her attention. Even as her eyes scanned the pages, her mind was counting how many more nights she would have to spend alone by the fire. In his last owl, which she had received three days ago, Dumbledore had written he'd be back to Hogwarts in a week. That meant about five more days. Sighing, she closed the book and walked slowly to the window. Five more days of trying to keep busy and appear attentive when really her mind was miles away. Five more days of worrying. Four more nights without sleep.

A great breath rushed out of her lungs and she leaned forward, resting her forehead against the cold glass. Five more days, she thought as she looked out across the darkened grounds. They were beautiful as ever, even wrapped in shadows, and the peacefulness of the scene began to seep slowly into her. She could see nothing moving in the black shadow that was the forest, nor on the moonlit grass below her window. Everything was asleep. 

Or so it appeared. 

A strange feeling was creeping over her, even as she looked out across the peaceful grounds. It started as a gentle prickling on the back of her neck, but soon a chill went shivering down her spine and all her muscles tensed. Someone was watching her. She could feel it.

Cursing herself for leaving her wand by the chair, she remained still, hoping she was just imagining it. Of course, she really knew she wasn't. Her alter ego was a cat for a good reason; even in human form, her senses were amazingly sharp, and right then she could hear the faint, shallow murmur of breathing coming from within the living room.

A wave of icy terror reached out to grab her. The breathing became a little louder, coming from over by the fire now. Who could it be? Her first thought was, of course, a Death Eater, maybe even Voldemort himself. What better way to anger his enemy than to kill the woman Dumbledore loved? But the Dark Lord or his minions wouldn't have entered quietly, she knew. They would have wanted everyone in the castle to know what was going on. So maybe it was another teacher. But they would've knocked. A student. No, students didn't know where she spent her nights. 

Running out of possibly identities, she realized quickly that she couldn't stand with her back to the intruder forever. She might have been afraid, but like a true Gryffindor, she wouldn't let that stop her. With a final, steadying breath, she spun around. A pair of twinkling, light blue eyes was staring at her from the chair she'd just vacated.

"Albus!" She cried, a trembling hand fluttering up to her heart. It was a gesture she used when either shocked, relieved, or (as was the case right then) a little of both. 

"Good evening, Minerva. You're up late." He smiled tenderly beneath his long white beard, taking in the sight of the flustered witch before him. Her ebony hair was swirling gently over her shoulders and a light blush had risen to her ivory cheeks. Her nightgown was a green that matched her eyes so perfectly he would have sworn she'd charmed it, had he not been the one to give it to her. For three weeks he'd been picturing her in his mind, but even in his daydreams she hadn't looked as beautiful as she did tonight.

They were both quiet for a few moments; Minerva recovering from the shock and Dumbledore merely watching her. Finally, she smiled gently but her hand stayed on her heart, which was beating so fast and hard she was afraid it would jump right up through her throat.

"I-I didn't expect you back for another few nights. You said a week in your letter." She faltered, his blue stare sucking her in.

"Yes, things didn't take quite as long as I'd anticipated." Dumbledore's eyes glinted mischievously, "but, if you'd like, I could leave and come back in a few days--"

"Don't you dare." She said, her smile growing as she swept across the room to wrap her arms around his neck. He felt his tension fly away at her familiar, warm embrace and couldn't help but release a soft sigh.

"Well, if you insist." He murmured, gently tugging her closer to him. She fell lightly onto his lap and relaxed against his chest, his hands positioning themselves comfortably in the small of her back. Their eyes locked again and for a long moment, they simply stared at one another. Then, never breaking their gaze, they shared a sweet, deep kiss. It was the first of many that night.

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~*~THE END~*~

AN: Again, please review. I hope you enjoyed the story, but if not, I'd really like to know why. Or if you did like it, could you please tell me why? I need to know these things to make my writing better. Thanks a lot!


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